"Wilson, F Paul - adversary 3 - The Touch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson F. Paul)Her blue eyes flashed as she laughed. "Five points for you!"
"You asked for it, lady." He wondered if she had always been like this, or if it was a trait she had developed after her husband had been killed. And he wondered too what she would do if he ever took her up on one of her offers. How much of her was for real and how much for show? He wasn't sure. Most of the time he was convinced she was putting him on, but then there was her wild reputation, and a sense that she really did want him. "Oh, by the way," she said quickly as he put his hand on the doorknob. "I'm having a get-together here Saturday night. Why don't you and your wifeЧVirginia, isn't it?" "Ginny." "Why don't the two of you come over? It's nothing fancy. Just some friendsЧsome of them are mutual, I'm sureЧand a few politicos. Nobody really important." "Politicos?" She smiled that mischievous smile. "I've been known to make a contribution or two to the right candidate. So what do you say?" Alan racked his brain for a quick excuse but came up empty. So he hedged. "I don't know, Sylvia. It's short notice and I don't know what Ginny's got planned for the weekend. But I'll let you know tomorrow." Alan pulled the door open. "You really have to go?" she said, suddenly serious. "Yeah. I do." And fast. She shrugged. "Okay. See you in the morning, I guess." "Right." didn't look back, didn't even breathe until he was headed down the driveway and passing through the gate. Not a moment too soon, he thought, exhaling as he made his body relax into the seat. What that woman did to himЕ As the drum opening from Little Richard's "Keep a-Knockin' " blasted from the car speakers, he gunned his car and headed for home. "You'll never guess where I've been tonight," Alan said as he came into the bedroom. On the way home he had figured out a solution to the Party Problem: He'd simply tell Ginny they were invited, Ginny would say no, and that would be it. She wouldn't go to a party at Sylvia's. After all, Sylvia had an unsavory reputation, and none of Ginny's crowd would be there and she'd have no one to talk to. Alan could then leave it up to Ginny to get them out of it. Easy. Ginny was propped up in bed, eyes closed, a book on her lap. She opened her eyes and looked up. She was wearing her aqua-tinted contacts. She'd had them for six weeks now and Alan still wasn't used to them. She was a pretty, blue-eyed blonde without the contacts; a tall, attractive woman with curly hair cut close to her head. Definitely worth a second look. But with those contacts in place she was absolutely striking. Her eyes became a startling green that grabbed attention and held it. She turned those eyes on him now. Would he ever get used to that color? Her long legs, lean and muscular from tennis year-round and golf whenever the weather permitted, slipped free of her robe as she stretched and yawned. She looked vaguely interested. |
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